


"The Memory Remains" 12x18 Coda

by LizLovesLit



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Coda, F/M, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-14
Updated: 2017-04-14
Packaged: 2018-10-18 22:08:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10626108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LizLovesLit/pseuds/LizLovesLit
Summary: It's a tiny coda.I'm currently writing a season 12 overarching story, that I hope to publish in the Summer hiatus. I plan to wrangle this in as part of a chapter later on. Give it a read if you want to.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Make sure you check the tags and know your limits. I do not want you to be triggered.

 

* * *

 

‘ _It’s not cheating if it’s with a chick’,_ he hears himself telling Cas. The poor guy was acting gutted after he’d touched Dean’s brow and healed an early case of chlamydia. _  
_

_‘I apologize then, Dean. I did not know that rule. I will strive harder to be less jealous.’,_ Castiel’s eyes fell to the ground as he turned away stiffly.

* * *

‘ _Did you have protection?’ ‘I had my Angel Blade.’_

Castiel’s chin tilt and the glint in his gaze spoke of anger and retribution. Well deserved retribution. It is cheating, but he’d pushed him away and caused him to be homeless. Dean deserved everything Castiel handed him.

* * *

‘ _Dean? I thought you were dead!’_ Castiel’s arms and hands drew him close roughly, but his breath and brief kiss to his jaw was tender.  
They made love and lounged together lazily for two days after Amara let him go.

* * *

 

Self loathing renewed with the resurfacing memories. It didn’t even matter anymore that Castiel left him yet again. Dean proved himself to be unreliable. Bloodthirsty. He was too much of everything except what Castiel needed him to be.

 

Still, he couldn’t stop himself trying to call him. Trying to locate him on GPS. He even prayed to him, telling him he was sorry and that he knew that wasn’t enough. The silence that met his prayers was as painful as if Castiel had just taken his blade and driven it into his chest. His bed was cold, causing him to toss and turn uncomfortably. The goddamned memory foam remembers Cas too. He sat up, tied his robe around him and shuffled aimlessly through the halls.

 

He had wanted things to be so different – he had finally made good on his confession to the priest and literally started a new life with Cas only to fuck it all up!

 

It made sense. He fucked it up before with Lisa and lost Ben – why wouldn’t he find a way to lose the love of his life forever too? If Cas ever did come back, how could he confess sleeping with that blonde waitress? Yeah, it eased the ache in his chest for a little while to have the slim blonde’s hands roam his body and to have her painted lips to ravish him, but he knew exactly what he was doing when he chose to let her use him in order to silence his brain. The thoughts were eating him alive. In fresh anger his fist connected with the door frame, making a delicious ache deep in his knuckles and the feeling of the bloody, split skin across them jolted him from his thoughts. Blood and bruises are what he deserves. Atonement.

 

He didn’t want perfume and soft curves. He wanted dark hair and piercing blue eyes. He wanted the security of a strong embrace in the arms of the man that felt like home! He wanted the scent of Brut deodorant and cinnamon toothpaste fresh kisses. He wanted Cas – and even if the Angel ever returned home again, this betrayal would make him unforgivable. If Cas had done what he himself had, if their roles were reversed, he knew he couldn’t forgive him even as much as he loved him.

 

He had had the worshipful love of an Angel of the Lord, and now all he had was an empty bunker and broken heart.

 

The sight of his blood oozing toward his fingertips spurred him forward.

He couldn’t face another day like this. He didn’t deserve the air in his lungs. It was time to leave, himself. Clenching his fists and setting his jaw he headed to his room once more. The plan grew in his head as his feet silently took him down the hall. He would take a blade. Fill the tub, and use the fancy bubble bath Cas had given him for Christmas. He would make the cuts and drop the knife and wounds underwater, preserving the illusion of calm. By the time Sammy found him, it would be over and almost peaceful looking. Sammy didn’t need to find a grisly scene.

 

He just needed to see his mom’s face one more time, and leave a letter for Sam. Sliding his bedside table’s drawer open, he gently searched through the other photos and private letters he treasured so long, only to discover what he was looking for was missing. It was here before the left to kill Moloch, he was sure. He remembered giving it a little caress over his mom’s face, like every single time he left on a hunt – just in case he didn’t return.

 

Fucking hell. Someone’s been here.

 

 


End file.
